


Carnivals and Concussions

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 14:22:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13102017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: What happens after the Carnival Job if Eliot goes home alone.





	Carnivals and Concussions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musingmidge77](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musingmidge77/gifts).



            “I’m heading out.”  Eliot says when he finally manages to lift his head off the table.  

            “Are you sure?”  Sophie frowns at him.  “You’re in pretty bad shape.”

            “I’m going to be in bad shape no matter where I am.”  Eliot grouches.  He stands - a little shaky on his feet - and makes his way to the door.  “Night.”

            “Good night.”  Sophie watches him leave.  Once he’s gone, she turns to Nate.  “Are we really going to let him just walk out of here?  Alone?  He needs a doctor, Nate.”

            Nate sighs.  “He’s never going to see a doctor.”  He says, and that’s true.  “Besides, he’ll get grumpy if we try and stop him.”

            Sophie knows that’s true, but there’s some sort of weird pull that’s got her antsy.  Eliot’s been gone maybe ten minutes when she’s finally had enough.  “I need to make sure he’s okay.”  She tells Nate.  

            Nate gives her a funny look but shrugs.  “Don’t blame me if he shuts the door right in your face.”  He warns, but he’s got that crease between his eyes that says he’s actually worried too.  

            Sophie’s never actually been to Eliot’s place, but she knows where it is.  Hardison convinced him to spend the money and buy a decent condo downtown instead of staying in the not-so-nice neighborhood he had been renting in.  There’s no doorman, just a intercom system.  Sophie presses the button for condo 8A and waits.

            “What?”  Eliot grumbles.  

            “It’s Sophie.  Let me up.”  Sophie says, and something about her tone must tell Eliot she means business.  He swears under his breath and buzzes her in.

            Eliot’s waiting at the door when she arrives on his floor.  “Why are you here?”  He asks.  He’s got a beer in one hand and an ice pack in the other.  With his hoodie off, his black eye and bruised face are much easier to see - though no less hard to take in.  

            Sophie hisses sympathetically and shuts the door behind her.  “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”  She answers.  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.  Or, at least, going to be okay.”

            Eliot sinks down into the couch cushions and looks like he may never move again.  “How motherly of you.”  He says, and he’s got a point.  A year ago, Sophie would have denied it left and right.  Now, she just shrugs.  She likes to make sure the team is okay.  She likes knowing that they’re safe.  

            “You probably have a concussion.”  Sophie says.  

            “Yeah, the headache clued me in.”  Eliot says.  “I’ve had ‘em before.  I’ll have ‘em again.”

            And Sophie - Sophie nearly cries at that, because that’s just how Eliot views life.  She knows it’s never once occurred to the man to say he needs a break, that he’s sick of being punched and stabbed and shot at.  

            “Can I get you something to eat?”  Sophie asks.  “Or drink?”  
            Eliot points to a glass of water on the coffee table.  “I’m good.”  He says.  “Could use another ice pack, though.”

            Sophie crosses the room and opens the freezer.  Her heart sinks a little when she sees just how many ice packs Eliot’s got stored up in his freezer.  It’s like he expects to come home every night a battered and bruised mess, and maybe that’s not all that far from the truth.  Sophie’s going to be having a long talk with Nate about the danger they put their hitter in.  

            She grabs one of the ice packs and brings it back over to Eliot.  He takes it and presses it against his side.  “Thanks.”  He says.  He hesitates a moment, looking like he wants to say something but can’t.  Most people wouldn’t even pick up on it, but Sophie’s the world’s best grifter for a reason, and she’s good at seeing little things.

            “What is it?”  She asks.  

            “Nothing.”  Eliot says, and maybe that’s true.  Probably not, though.  Sophie waits.  She’s learned that with Eliot, it can take a while for all the things he’s thinking to make it past that careful filter of his.  So she waits.  

            A car alarm sounds outside.  Eliot turns towards the noise, ever so slightly, assessing the threat.

            “I do my best.”  Eliot says when he turns back around.  “I really do.”

            “I know you do.”  

            “My best isn’t always going to be good enough.”  Eliot says, and he stares at Sophie like he’s waiting for her to get _it_ , whatever that might be.  “It almost wasn’t good enough tonight.”

            “What are you saying?”  Sophie asks, even though deep down she thinks she knows.  This is Eliot, saying enough is enough.

            “I’m saying, you all think I’m the best out there.  I’m not.  Never once pretended to be either.”  Eliot shifts a little and winces.  “Maybe make sure Nate knows that.”

            “You aren’t quitting?”  Sophie asks, and then wishes she hadn’t when Eliot does that scary thing with his eyes.

            “No, I’m not quitting.”  He says.  “All I’m asking is for you guys to be a bit more careful when it comes to planning.  I’m no good to anyone when I’m all beat up.”

            Sophie gets it now.  “You know you’re always a part of the team, right?”  She asks.  “Even if you ever decide you don’t want to be our hitter anymore.  Or if you can’t, or whatever.  You’re still part of the team.”

            Eliot doesn’t say anything for a long while.  When he does, it’s with a little smile on his face.  “You don’t need to worry about me.”  He says.  “I’m sticking around.”

            “Good.”  Sophie says, because she knows Eliot needed to hear that.  And because she needed to hear his answer.  Needed to know that after the beating he took today, he still wanted to keep going.  

            “Family.”  Eliot says.  Sophie stares at him.  “We’re family, Soph.  That’s better than a team.”

            Sophie smiles.  “It is.”

           

 


End file.
